With Velvet Gloves
by FallAway
Summary: AU. Lucas leaves Brooke at the altar and it seems as though everyone else in her life leaves with him. Time to pick the pieces up. BrookeLucas, BrookeJake.
1. Prologue

Summary: AU, future fic. Lucas leaves Brooke at the altar and it seems as though everyone else in her life leaves with him. Time to pick the pieces back up. BrookeLucas, BrookeJake.

Disclaimer: I so do not own these characters.

A/N: I should not be starting another WIP right now, but I got the idea for this and I couldn't ignore it. Probably going to end up being around ten chapters, but that may or may not change. **Reviews **are encouraging, of course, so the more you leave the more likely I am to write more. Title comes from a line in _Magnolia_ by the Hush Sound. Amazing song, download it if you get the chance.

--

The CD spun around her finger, round and round and round again. Part of her wished it was a carousel, one that she could ride on to forget all of her problems. They were abundant, and every day a new one was added to the mix. She was tired of fighting to keep afloat in the sea of pain she was drowning in. Tired and bored of the constant routine. She wasn't even treading water anymore, she was fully immersed in salt and heartbreak and she wasn't sure she could handle much more.

Not after today. Today was the final straw, the one that convinced her that her lungs were about to collapse from the pressure being exerted on them. Preparation for this had never been a concern because she was so certain it would all work out.

She sighed and took a seat in one of the dozens of empty chairs surrounding her, watching as the quick rainbow flashes of the sun hitting the disc began to dim. Her throat was clogged, burning with tears that had been both shed and held back. She was tempted to break the slice of plastic just to see if she still had the strength to do so.

Part of her wondered if she ever did. Obviously she wasn't as strong as she always thought, because she'd managed to get herself into this situation. She'd managed to argue her way back to him only to be left, alone, on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her entire life.

Brooke slid her eyes up to the sky and clenched her jaw at the site of the storm clouds moving in over the city. The news that morning had warned of a storm, and she had been desperate to get through the ceremony before the rain came. Unfortunately, the ceremony never happened, and the thought left a bitter taste on her tongue as the CD fell into her lap. It slid against the material of her dress for a moment before halting just above her knees, the edge caught on the lace of the skirt.

Clenching the lacy fabric of her wedding dress between her fingers, she took a deep breath to steady herself. Angry black teardrops fell from her eyes, leaving trails of mascara and salt down her cheeks. They collapsed on the shiny surface of the disc and she took another shuddering breath, twisting her hands into tight fists. Her nails dug painfully into the tender skin of her palms and she continued to breathe deeply, trying to get over her tears.

It was a useless mission, she knew, but that didn't stop her from trying. Brooke Davis was nothing if not persistent. Despite the fact that no one was around, she still didn't want to run the risk of letting anyone see her cry. When she was a little girl her mother used to play 'Big Girls Don't Cry' on full blast and dance around the living room with her, laughing and smiling because back then it was all okay.

She still took the lyrics of that song to heart. Mommy always told her that tears never solved anything, that crying was simply a way to ruin her makeup and make her sadder than she was before.

And back then she fell in love with the idea that she could be strong enough to hold in her pain. That notion had been shot to hell during her years as a teenager, and she cried more often than she would've liked. People told her it was healthy to let it out sometimes, but whenever she watched Dirty Dancing she couldn't help but think that the song was right.

Big girls weren't supposed to cry. Her mommy told her so.

That woman was six feet under, now, and Brooke felt sick when she thought about the cause of death. Sleeping pills seemed so bland by way of suicides, but she knew her mother never liked to leave messes behind. Not that her suicide didn't inspire chaos: Brooke was a mess for weeks, and Lucas did his best to comfort her though he wasn't sure how he could. He didn't know that she had once been close to her parents, that she had once been their precious baby girl and that once upon a time nothing could have changed that. She'd always expressed nothing but contempt for her flesh and blood.

She didn't like to talk about things like that – her family, her life before she met and fell in love with him. Now she was regretting it. Had she been more open with him, maybe this would have turned out differently. Maybe she wasn't thinking clearly when she said yes to his proposal, maybe, maybe, maybe. Brooke could play What If for the rest of her life and it wouldn't make a difference.

Lucas was gone, Peyton was gone, Nathan and Haley were dealing with their divorce. Heartbreak Hotel was such a cliché, but she wondered if that was what Tree Hill had turned into. Everyone who lived there suffered from some sort of personal disease and the black holes of love were constantly vacuuming up once-pure hearts. They never spit back out the same soul, the same feelings, and people were constantly crushed under the force of their gravity.

With a deep sigh, she stood and tugged at the skirt of her dress so that she wouldn't trip over it. The disc fell to the ground with a soft thud and she stared at the beach she was standing on indifferently. Jake had been right.

There was nothing left for her in this town.

--

"_So, what, you go back to Tree Hill and the two of you live happily ever after?"_

_Brooke glared at him, shaking her head back and forth slowly. "I told you when we started this that it wasn't permanent, that—"_

"_That I was a replacement fuck," Jake finished. "Yeah, I got that part, thanks," he spat bitterly. He rested his forehead against the wall and slid his hands against the plaster, flexing his jaw in a blatant attempt to calm himself. He wasn't a violent person, she knew that. But he got worked up easily and his four-year-old daughter was asleep in the other room._

_The walls in his apartment were thin, as they had proven to the neighbors time and time again. He wouldn't risk waking his precious baby girl, no matter how angry he was with the woman standing behind him. She swallowed thickly. Brooke slid her palms against the pockets of her sweatshirt and took a deep breath. She had no choice but to go back, but he didn't see it the same way. Not that she expected him to._

"_I need the closure, Jake, I can't just—"_

"_Yes, you can," he said quietly. She took a step forward, hesitant to touch him. Another step, and another, and she was close enough to reach out to him. She did just that and ran her nails lightly down his spine, tripping them over the vertebrae slowly. He gave a slight shudder and she bit her lip, leaning into place a kiss on his shoulder blade._

_The material of his button-up hindered her from touch her lips to his skin, and she frowned slightly as she pulled back. Maybe it was easier that way._

_She sighed, "Lucas is waiting for me." Her forehead rested against the base of his neck and she could feel him fighting to control his breathing. She sighed again and pulled away from him completely, turning to retrieve her bags from the table so she could leave._

_It wasn't until she had one foot out the door that he bothered to speak again. "I guess you and Peyton are more alike than I thought, huh?"_

_The door slammed behind her and she resisted the urge to kick it. He was always good at getting under her skin._

--

Scissors were relaxing – familiar, more accurately – so once she removed the dress she dropped it onto the bed and grabbed a pair out of her bedside drawer. Standing there, staring at her perfectly-cut, personally-designed wedding dress, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. Brooke slid her free hand up her opposite arm when the conditioned air gave her exposed skin a chill, and she ignored the fact that she was only wearing a bra and panties as she set to work altering the fabric in front of her.

She cut the lace into thin strips, giving the skirt a torn, tattered, near-gothic effect. Next she set to work on the bodice, sliding the metal over the material with a practiced ease that came with nearly six years of design.

The white fishnets encasing her thighs caught her attention, but her brown orbs quickly diverted their gaze to the silky red garter that was adorning her upper thigh. Her eyes narrowed and she snipped the band off with a vengeance, the cold feeling of the metal causing her to gasp.

"_Stop it, you're being a baby."_

"_Lucas!" she whined, bouncing in her seat a little. "It hurts, can you please hurry up?"_

_He rolled his eyes and continued with his task, careful not to clip her skin as he continued to work the small splinter out of her thigh. The tweezers he was using had no grip left in them, but when he teased her about their aged and rusted state she remained completely silent. He knew better than to push._

"_There," he proclaimed, holding the tiny, offending object up for her inspection. "Better now?"_

_Brooke stuck her lower lip out convincingly and crossed her arms over her chest. "It still stings," she told him. Lucas grinned and pressed a quick kiss against her mouth, then her cheek. She was still pouting when he pulled away, but she bit back a smile at the hint of mischief in his blue eyes. He could be devious when he wanted to be, as she had learned time and time again over the years._

_Trailing his mouth across the exposed skin of her shoulder, he slid his fingers under the strap of her tank top easily. She protested when he pulled away, but then his mouth was on her inner thigh, working away the pain from her splinter cut, and she lost her breath as he worked his way further up her leg._

Dropping the scissors on the bed when she was finished, she admired her work proudly. The dress lay in shreds that would make a fabulous new design. Her grin widened as she looked at the torn lace more closely, and she sighed deeply when a feeling of sadness washed over her in place of the pride. The smile faded slowly as the situation began to really sink in.

Her wedding dress was ruined, and it was only an appropriate end to her day. The clock proclaimed that it was five-thirty in the afternoon in huge red letters, and she was supposed to be on a plane to Tahiti right now.

"Well, plans change, don't they, Davis?" she murmured. She rolled her eyes. "And now I'm talking to myself. Great," she shook her head and rolled her eyes again as she turned around to answer the ringing phone.

"Hello?" she answered, suddenly exhausted. She didn't want to hear anyone apologize right now. Pity was not high on her list of favorite emotions and she knew she was going to be dealing with it for the next month – at least – until everyone got over the shock.

After all, she and Lucas were supposed to be forever. Wasn't that what she had written in her vows? She sighed and listened to the silence on the other end of the line, repeating her greeting impatiently. Prank calls ranked much lower than pity on her favorites list.

There was a slight pause, and then the person sighed on the other end of the line. "Hey, Brooke."

Her heart stopped momentarily and she gasped as she sank down onto the bed. "Hi Jake."


	2. Chapter 1: Just Tired

Disclaimer: I still do not own them. I don't know why you keep insisting that I do.

A/N: Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who read/reviewed the prologue of this story. I'm really excited about this; the plot and everything has been in my head for a long time now and it makes me incredibly happy to finally be typing it out and posting. I'm probably not going to post a note at the top of every chapter, but if you have questions feel free to ask them in reviews and I will answer them in an author's note if they don't give away too much of the storyline.

That being said, I bring you the first chapter. Drop me a line and let me know what you think. Oh, and download **Red Right Ankle** by the Decemberists. It's gorgeous.

--

_Her arms wrapped around his waist and he sighed, pressing his lips to her forehead. Sliding her eyes closed, she traced patterns on the skin of his back and exhaled when he pulled away from her slightly. She stubbornly kept her eyes closed and he sighed quietly, running his hands up her arms slowly._

"_She—"_

"_Don't," she cut him off, finally opening her eyes and shaking her head. Brown orbs locked onto his hazel and she took a deep breath. "I don't want to talk about her."_

"_Kind of the elephant in the room, don't you think?"_

"_It's imaginary," she replied, smiling slightly. "If we both forget about it then it won't take up our airspace anymore."_

_Jake arched his eyebrows, backing up and holding his hands up in surrender. "Fine; whatever. But you're going to have to deal with it some time, you know."_

"_So says you," Brooke whispered. He didn't hear her and she didn't bother to repeat her statement. It wouldn't have mattered anyway._

"Did I get the dates mixed up?"

His voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she jumped slightly, suddenly very aware of how little she was wearing. She felt exposed, like he could see her from his vantage point in Florida, and it made her sort of sick to her stomach. There wasn't a single part of her that he hadn't seen, hadn't touched, but the fact that she was sitting on her bed practically naked still made her hyper-aware of how warm the room felt. Summer heat coated the walls like a comforter despite the storm going on outside.

"What?" she asked in confusion. Thunder clapped outside and her bedroom window shook, forcing her attention to the frame. Her suitcases sat below it, still packed with every piece of summer clothing she had ever purchased. Lingerie outnumbered bathing suits and she inhaled sharply.

"I thought today was the big day."

"Oh," she looked at the wall in front of her again. Brooke kept her mouth in the same position, too focused on swallowing back fresh tears to really form a full response. Had she been in a position to look at herself, she would've mocked her raccoon eyes and fish expression. Fortunately – or unfortunately, she wasn't quite sure – she couldn't.

"Didn't think you'd be home, figured I'd leave a message and say congratulations."

"Thanks," she whispered. Her voice cracked and she closed her eyes tightly. There was something to be said when her ex… well, whatever Jake had been was calling to tell her congratulations on a wedding that didn't happen. And what was worse? He didn't know about Lucas, about Peyton, any of it. Because he was in Florida.

And she didn't talk to him anymore.

"You still there?"

"What? Oh," she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Y-yeah, I'm here, Jake."

"Are you okay?"

Jaw clenched, she stood from the bed and crossed the room to pull her blinds shut. They weren't even open, really, but she was tired of taking risks that could get her hurt. Stalkers weren't big in Tree Hill but Brooke didn't want to find the one and only. "Not exactly," she returned. She kept her voice low, almost venomous, and she heard his sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.

Apparently he still knew her pretty well.

"So I guess I didn't get the dates mixed up," he stated, monotone. She laughed humorlessly and nodded her head, almost choking on her tears from the force of the sound.

"No, you didn't," she replied. Looking around the room, she adjusted her grip on the phone and sighed slightly. Finding clothes to put on meant dying in the summer heat with the winter clothes that were still in the closet or digging through her suitcases to find something comfortable and thin.

Turning back to the window, she adjusted her bra strap and sat down on the floor to start digging through her luggage. She balanced the phone between her ear and shoulder, letting her hair fall in front of her face, and he didn't say anything for a while. By the time she had one suitcase open in front of her, he was breathing a little louder than usual.

Brow knitting, she straightened her neck and caught the phone in her hand before it could fall into the suitcase. "Jake, are you okay?"

"So who left who?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Brooke. Did you leave Lucas or did he leave you?"

Her jaw would've been on the floor if it was humanly possible, she was sure of it. An indignant gasp spilled from her lips and she yanked a pair of shorts out from under a lacy black teddy, sliding the phone between her ear and shoulder again so she could pull them on.

"Where the hell do you get off asking me something like that?" she asked incredulously. It was one thing to call and say congratulations, but to ask something so heartless after finding out that the good wishes weren't necessary was an entirely different matter. Rage boiled up inside of her and she yanked the drawstrings on her sweat shorts tight, sitting up and grabbing the phone again. Jake remained quiet and she let out a slow breath between clenched teeth.

Neither said anything for a few minutes, and Brooke opted for a simple white tank top. She was already a mess, so it didn't much matter what she was wearing for her night alone at home. No one was going to stop by.

Everyone and anyone that would've bothered was already gone.

She stood up and folded one arm across her stomach, resting her fingers on the opposite elbow. Adjusting her grip on the phone, she walked across the room and flipped out the light before heading down the hall for the living room.

The silence became too much to bear after a while and she stopped dead next to the kitchen counter, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you seriously waiting for an answer to that question?"

"Yes."

His answer was too simple, too succinct, and she groaned in irritation. "Lucas left _me_, okay? Are you happy, Jake? Lucas left and Peyton has been gone for three days. So they're probably off in the honeymoon suite that was supposed to belong to me with my ring on her finger. I'm sure Elvis made quite a tip from their wedding," she snapped.

Silence was the only reply to her rant and she rolled her eyes, angrily turning the cordless phone off before slamming it down on the counter. Swinging open the fridge door, she was even more pissed off to discover that there was absolutely nothing to eat. Of course. She had cleaned everything out that was going to go bad because she was supposed to be _gone_ right now.

"Because I just_ had_ to plan ahead this time, didn't I?" she scoffed, rolling her eyes again. The phone rang and she winced at the shrill tone of it, turning slowly to glare at the inanimate object. Wiping away dry tears proved pointless and she didn't have anything else to deter her from picking up the phone. The severe lack of food in her house only lessened her distractions.

It was frustrating. Brooke took a step forward and stared at the phone, cocking her head to the side slowly. Brown eyes narrowed when it rang again and she let out a breath and reached for it.

Her hand hovered over the plastic for a moment, and it rang again. Brooke stomped once and pursed her mouth into a thin line, answering with a succinct "What?"

"Manners matter, Brooke," Jake said calmly. "And if you would've waited five seconds then you would've gotten a response to that fantastic rant of yours."

"Well then let's hear it," she said. "Let's hear what the wise Jake Jagielski has to say about my total failure as a girlfriend and bride."

He paused and she pulled the phone away from her ear to hang up and order take-out when he spoke. "Lucas is an idiot."

"I figured that one out already, thank you," she sighed pressed the phone back to her ear. She could practically hear him nodding. Brooke hopped up on the counter, crossing her legs modestly. The thunder rattled the windows again and she swallowed thickly, taking a moment to listen to the storm as he continued to formulate what he had to say. She knew that she had to wait if she wanted to hear it, had learned that he liked to take his time with his words a long time ago.

"And Peyton …" he sighed. She was still a touchy subject for him, Brooke knew that, and it was just one more reason that she didn't like to talk about her ex-best friend with him. "Peyton doesn't know what she wants. She never really has."

"You got that too?" she smiled a little. Jake chuckled and she shrugged her shoulders slightly, rolling them back to ease some of the tension from her muscles. She sniffled and ran a hand across her face, wincing at the dry feeling of her skin. Salt and mascara streaked her cheeks but she didn't want to look in a mirror and confirm what she already knew.

Big girls weren't supposed to cry, right? She scoffed.

"Look, I don't know what to say that's going to make you feel better about this," he admitted. "But if you feel like ranting or whatev—"

"Actually," she cut him off, clenching her fist tightly. New half-moon marks joined the faint scars left from earlier that afternoon, and she took a deep breath. "Do you think you could just … talk to me?" She rolled her eyes weakly and uncrossed her legs. "There's no one here that I can burden," she said softly.

Jake took a deep breath. "Yeah," he told her. "I think I can do that."

--

There was a crick in her neck that made her want to snap her head off to rid herself of the extra weight. She groaned and turned over on her stomach precariously, realizing that she was on the couch. Burying her face in a throw pillow, she inhaled deeply and sighed back into the material.

After a moment, a beeping sound filled her ears and she furrowed her brow, feeling around for the offending noisemaker. Her hand closed around the phone and Brooke sighed, clicking it off carelessly. She flung it onto the floor and listened as it thumped against the carpet, skidding a little before thumping again and then coming to a stop.

It wasn't as satisfying as she hoped it would be. With another sigh, she turned over on her back and arched her neck from side to side in an attempt to ease some of the tension. The bones cracked lightly and she winced, resting her head back against the end of the couch to stare at the ceiling.

"_You know, they make beds for a reason," he teased, setting two cups of coffee on the table. She glared at him blearily and he grinned, kneeling beside the couch where her head was laying. "Hey," he murmured, kissing her hello._

"_Hey yourself," she grinned and kissed him again. Lucas smiled and reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, kissing the tip of her nose lightly. Brooke looked over his shoulder and visibly brightened at the site of the Starbucks logo on the paper cups._

"_Chai tea latte?" she asked hopefully, eyes bright as she looked up at him. He laughed lightly and nodded, turning around to grab her drink. She sat up quickly and accepted the cup, taking a sip and sighing heavily. "Thank God for you and your freakish early-bird habits."_

"_I think I'm offended by that."_

_She kissed him gently. "Mm," she smiled. "Don't be."_

Brooke sighed and traced the cracks in the ceiling, drumming her fingers absently on her stomach. She looked to her left at the phone – lying innocently, quietly on the floor – and frowned slightly. Jake was probably convinced she hated him or something equally as untrue. Of course, she was the one to start the third fight in their phone conversation last night and technically it was her fault that he raised his voice and woke his daughter.

Jenny was six, already preparing herself for the first grade despite the fact that kindergarten just ended two weeks ago. Brooke smirked a little at the thought of the tiny little girl. She hadn't seen her grow up, but she had been there for various parts of her life.

She sighed again and groaned as she tilted her head back, stretching her neck again to relieve the rest of her pain. There was a spa not far from her apartment that had some of the most amazing masseuses in North Carolina. It wouldn't be too hard to just go and forget about everything in favor of a mud bath and a massage. Maybe a facial just to even things out.

Another glance at the phone drowned her slightly more upbeat mood and she glared at it. She was tired last night, exhausted from crying and yelling and crying and talking and thinking. When Jenny woke up Jake put the phone down to put her back to bed, and Brooke remembered his apologies to his daughter before she must've fallen asleep.

Sitting up slowly, she stretched her aching, tired limbs and swung her legs over the side of the couch. Her feet pressed into the warm, plush carpet floor and she quirked her mouth as she contemplated her plans for the day. Looking around the apartment only made her head throb with unshed tears and she was tired of crying.

Just … tired. Of everything.

With a nod she stood up and headed toward her bedroom, grabbing her luggage from under the window and tossing it onto the bed piece by piece. After a moment both of her suitcases were sitting in the middle of the mattress, unzipped with pieces of clothing flying out of them at random. Brooke sniffled harshly and stopped her actions for a moment, taking a deep steadying breath to calm herself.

Then she nodded and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes briefly. Running the heels of her palms over her eyes, she scrubbed away whatever eyeliner and mascara was left and continued with her task. It wasn't long before every piece of lingerie she had ever purchased – including pieces she bought specifically for Lucas on their honeymoon – were scattered at random throughout her bedroom.

One good thing about Lucas' insistence that they didn't move in together until after the wedding was that she could dirty up her apartment as much as she wanted; that and she didn't have to fight him for ownership of a joint house after his little disappearing act. Brooke zipped the suitcases back up and lifted them easily, slipping her feet into a pair of sandals that was lying by the door.

She glanced back at her room one last time and bit her lip to keep fresh tears from falling. Her feet shuffled from the combination of her shoes that were slightly big and her suitcases that weighed more than she probably did when combined. She dropped one by the front door when she reached it and grabbed her keys off the rack on the wall.

Flinging her purse haphazardly over her shoulder, she made sure that her cell phone was inside of it before grabbing her charger off a side table and stuffing it into the small bag as well. Brooke opened the front door, picked up her discarded suitcase, and stepped outside.

_The after-effects of the storm were clear, the power outage on the block standing out prominently in the dark. Only outlines of houses could be seen, shown in the dim light from the stars that were just starting to come out from behind the storm clouds. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, leaning against the balcony as she observed the neighborhood. People were locked up in their houses with candles lit and the street was completely deserted._

_According to the radio, officials were working on fixing the problem that had led to a black-out in over half the city, and the storm was most definitely to blame for the power outage. Brooke sighed heavily and rested her chin on her palm, leaning her elbow against the railing._

"_Hot chocolate?" he asked. She turned to look at her boyfriend and smiled, accepting the mug with a curious look. Lucas smirked. "Your stove is gas."_

"_Oh," she flushed and held the mug to her lips, blowing lightly to cool the steaming liquid. He chuckled lightly and took a sip of his own, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he looked out at the street._

Ashlee Simpson blasted from the speakers when she turned the car on and she winced, hastily turning the volume down on the stereo. She sighed and leaned over the center console, feeling around under the passenger seat for her CD case. The radio was not going to help her mood today, and to be completely honest she didn't want to listen to The Hottest Hits Of Yesterday.

Leaning back in her seat, she flipped through the small book of discs until she came across the one she was looking for. Smiling, she slid the well-worn copy of the Decemberists from its place amongst her other albums and into the stereo.

Her key turned easily in the ignition, turning the engine over, and she pulled out of the parking lot smoothly, turning left when she reached the end of her street. The freeway was passing underneath the car at eighty miles per hour five minutes later and she breathed in deeply as she drove.


	3. Chapter 2: So Many Other Places

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. If I did, well … you can read and see.

A/N: Hello all. This update is partially for Holli, since Hider and I managed to convert her to the ship the other night, and partially for my own fun. This chapter was _incredibly_ fun to write, probably my favorite so far, and I'd greatly appreciate it if you could drop me a line and let me know what you think.

And download _Delirium Trigger_ by Coheed and Cambria. It is love.

--

He still lived in the same house. That much had been admitted in between screaming matches during their phone call the night before, and Brooke was grateful that she still remembered the way to the cute little home that he had moved into a couple of years after high school was over. Peyton was the first to tell her about it and how well he was doing and Brooke was still convinced that the blonde hadn't truly seen the place.

In her opinion, it was completely Jake's. The house was old, a little worn, and he had put so much into it during his time there that she couldn't imagine anyone else inhabiting its walls. Peyton always thought it was anti-Jake. As usual, she had no idea what she was talking about.

Sighing, Brooke pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, pulling her keys tentatively from the ignition and sliding them nervously between her fingers. A quick glance in the rearview gave her reassurance that she didn't look like crap, and she stared at the house in complete and total apprehension. Driving here had happened on somewhat of a whim, but being there now was totally different than thinking about it back at home. Tree Hill.

There were so many places she could have been at that moment. In Tahiti, with Lucas whispering words of devotion into her ear as they made love on the balcony of their hotel room. Back in Tree Hill, drowning her sorrows in a pint of Ben & Jerry's Half Baked with Molly Ringwald sharing her pain on screen. In California at her father's house, trying to convince him to get her a job so that she could stay in San Diego and away from everyone else. There were choices she could have made that would not have led her here, but she was tired and looking at the house just made her want to see him more than she did in the first place.

Because if there was one thing she could say for herself, it was that she didn't back down once she made a decision. She didn't waver, never had, and Brooke was entirely too proud of herself because of that fact. Jake was aware of it, so was Lucas, and while the latter found it frustrating the former took it as a challenge. He was good at getting under her skin, and right now it felt like he was crawling through her very veins. So pulling out and leaving before she even spoke to him felt like too much of a cop-out for her liking. If he ever found out she would never hear the end of it.

She jerked open the door and stepped out of the car, slamming it shut behind her. Leaning against it for a moment, she took a deep breath and ran a hand through her disheveled hair in an attempt to repair some of the damage. Rolling her eyes at herself, she mumbled slightly under her breath and used her hips to push off the car. She walked with purpose toward the door, hastily ringing the doorbell once she reached it.

"_I gave you a key so you wouldn't have to do that," he smirked as he opened the door. Brooke grinned and shrugged her shoulders._

"_I forgot," she told him earnestly, leaning up to kiss him in greeting. Jake rolled his eyes and rested a hand on her waist, dipping down to kiss her again. This one was deeper, slower, and she was more than a little out of breath when they parted._

"_Should I start calling you Dory?"_

"_No, but you should stop referencing your daughter's favorite movies," she patted his shoulder mockingly. "Makes you seem like a girl." He laughed and kissed her again._

The door opened and she tensed, eyes locking onto the wood as it swung open. It revealed a well-kept living room and a set of stairs that she hadn't climbed in two years. Her breath left her in a rush and she furrowed her brow when she didn't see him standing there. At the very least she expected him to open the door, yell at her, and _then_ slam it in her face.

"Can I help you?"

Her eyes dropped to the sound and she smiled warmly, crouching down so that she was as tall as the little girl. "Hi, Jenny," she smiled wider. "Is your daddy here?"

Jenny frowned, "How do you know my name?"

"I'm Brooke," she replied. "I'm an old friend of your dad's," she explained. Jenny warmed to that and tilted her head to the side, folding her arms across her chest slowly.

"Then how come he didn't tell me you were coming over? Daddy doesn't like surprise guests," she told Brooke. Her voice was high, bored, and Brooke couldn't help but laugh at her words. Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor beyond her line of vision and she stood abruptly, the smile falling when Jake rounded the door.

"Jenny, what have I told you about answering the door?" he sighed and picked the tiny brunette up, letting her wrap her tiny arms around his neck. She opened her mouth to defend herself and he turned to face his guest, eyes widening at the site of her.

"Hi," Brooke said softly, smiling weakly. He stared at her, ignoring his daughter's defensive ramblings. Brooke shoved her hands in her pockets, trying not to cringe when her keys scraped against her palm. He nodded a little and looked at Jenny.

"Why don't you go outside and play for a little while, huh?"

"Okay, Daddy," she nodded and wiggled out of his arms, saying a quick goodbye to Brooke before jetting to the back of the house to go outside. Brooke watched her go, a small smile on her face, and Jake turned back to her once the back door closed.

"What are you doing here?"

She frowned. "That's all I get? No hello? No rotten fruit thrown at my unsuspecting body? I must say, Jagielski, I'm disappointed." He leaned against the door frame and arched an eyebrow, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Guess I've lost my love for heckling," he said quietly. "What are you doing here?" his brow creased and she inhaled sharply, suddenly very angry with herself for not turning back at her first second guess. This was a bad idea. A horrible mission that she knew would turn out badly, but now she couldn't leave because she had seen him already.

"_I half-expected you to run when you got here earlier," he murmured, trailing kisses down her collarbone. She closed her eyes and ran her hand through his hair._

"_And leave you standing there looking all yummy? Please! I would never be able to read Cosmo without feeling ashamed ever again."_

_Jake laughed low against her throat and she gasped quietly, feeling her pulse quicken under the vibrations. He raised himself up above her and she trailed a hand down his face before sliding it into his hair to pull him back down to her for a kiss. Brooke hummed pleasurably against his lips and he smiled against hers before retreating back down her body._

"I wanted to see you," she whispered. A cringe followed the confession and she looked him in the eyes, trying to find any hint of resentment or hatred in them at her words. His face remained impassive but his eyes sparked slightly and she rocked back on her heels with a nod. "Which was obviously a very stupid decision. I'm sorry," she shook her head, "I'll go, I shouldn't be here," she continued to shake her head and turned around, yanking her keys out of her pocket with more force than was necessary.

"You're always doing that," he called after her. She stopped half-way to her car but didn't turn, closing her eyes against the sound of his voice. So many places she could have been at that moment, yet for some reason the gods made her come here. Any minute now he would tell her she disgusted him, she was sure of it.

"Always doing what?" she asked, turning her head to see him over her shoulder. The sun shone in her eyes and she squinted appropriately.

Jake pushed himself away from the door frame and walked further out on the porch. He stood on the edge of it and smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders as he looked around the front yard. "Running away," he explained, finally locking his gaze onto hers. Brooke froze. "You never stick around long enough for people to talk to you; you just leave before they can even think of a response."

She turned slowly to face him, folding her arms across her chest defensively. "Didn't look like you were too pleased to see me," she retorted bitterly. "Not that I expected you would be, but staring at me like I'm a leprosy victim doesn't give me much confidence, Jake."

"Leprosy? Nah," he smiled. Tilting his head to the side, he walked down the three small steps so that he was standing in the front yard. "Cancer maybe, but not leprosy."

Rolling her eyes, Brooke turned around again and continued her path to her car. "Should've known better than to come here," she murmured under her breath, fumbling with her keys to find the right one. His hand on her shoulder made her drop the small metal ring and she groaned, crouching down to retrieve it.

When she stood up again he was right in front of her, that intense look in his eyes that he got so often when he was with her, and she faltered. "What are you doing here, Brooke?" he asked softly. The harsh look was gone, the words weren't so hard this time around, and she found herself looking away for fear she might cry again.

"I wanted to see you," she repeated with conviction. Reaching for her hand, Jake sighed quietly. His skin touched hers and she yanked her hand back as though she'd been burned, glaring at him harshly. "I didn't come here for that."

"For what?"

"Sex," she hissed. "I figured maybe we could have an actual conversation that didn't end with me falling asleep on the phone if I came down here," she told him seriously.

He let out a breath and tilted his head back, letting his eyes slide closed against the sunlight. She watched the muscles of his throat work as he swallowed slowly and shivered at the site. Salty skin that was rough under her tongue and she was _not_ here for sex, she reminded herself. She couldn't be. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, she closed her eyes and counted to ten in her head before opening them again.

"I wasn't going to try to fuck you, Brooke, but thank you for the clarification," he lowered his head again and she narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Since when the _hell_ are you so calm all the time?"

"Since my daughter can hear everything we're saying right now," he nodded toward the head of brown curls that was standing in the doorway of the house. Brooke inhaled sharply and looked down at her shoes.

Silence settled over the yard for a few minutes before Jenny got bored and ran back into the house. Jake ran a hand across the back of his neck and Brooke looked at anything that wasn't him, wondering why the hell she had bothered to bring luggage when she so obviously wasn't wanted here.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, locking eyes with him. "I should've called or just … not shown up," she knitted her brow and turned away from him to open her car door. The handle unlatched easily under her fingers and the door opened quickly. She stepped back to open it the rest of the way so she could crawl back into the safe haven it offered when he pressed it shut, his breath hot on her neck.

The muscles in his arm flexed with his actions and she murmured his name breathily, cursing herself for a lack of control that she wasn't aware of until that moment. Jake rested his other hand on her shoulder and turned her around so that they were facing. Brown eyes danced across his face and she took in the small changes in him slowly, trying to process what exactly the scant three inches between them meant.

"You're free to stay as long as you want," he told her quietly. "But the second—" his voice lowered and she swallowed "—the _second_ Lucas comes calling, you're gone. I'm not watching you leave for him again."

"He won't," she laughed bitterly and Jake pushed himself off the car, shrugging his shoulders disinterestedly.

"That's what you said last time, too," he clenched his jaw briefly. Her breath hitched as he turned to walk back into the house and she grabbed his arm, angrily spinning him around to face her again.

"Last time? Last time I told you from the _start_ that being with you wasn't permanent. You knew perfectly well about the situation with Lucas, so quit feeding me bullshit that you know I know isn't true!"

"Funny, I don't seem to remember you telling me _anything_ when this whole thing—" he gestured between them angrily "—started except 'Fuck me,' Davis."

She stepped back, his words lacerating her though they shouldn't have, and she shook her head incredulously. "And you were so reluctant to do that, right, Jake?" she wondered quietly. Her voice took on a venomous tone and his eyes softened automatically in response.

"Brooke…"

"If I'm going to be here we're going to work this out," she told him. "And you're going to forget about Lucas and his shit and the fact that he left me standing there yesterday because he couldn't deal. As far as Peyton goes?" His gaze darkened and she nodded, "We aren't going to mention her."

"Because I take orders from you?"

"Because I'm tired of watching you mope over her."

Jake stared at her, working his jaw back and forth with his arms crossed. After a while he nodded slowly and her shoulders relaxed with the gesture. "Jenny's staying at Nicki's tonight," he told her.

"Okay," she agreed with a nod. He backed up to go into his house and Brooke stood there, still seething, wondering why the hell she continued to torture herself like this.


	4. Chapter 3: Old Habits

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

A/N: Nothing to say, really, other than: Download _The Walk_ by Imogen Heap, and please review.

--

Brooke entered the house awkwardly, noting tiny changes in the place as she stepped over the threshold. He was in the kitchen from what she could tell, the sink running loud in the otherwise-quiet house. She took a deep breath and set her bags by the door, turning around to close it. The wood swung shut with a soft click and she leaned her forehead against it, banging her head a few times for good measure.

She just had to keep getting herself into awkward situations. Painful situations. Her thoughts strayed to Nathan and Haley and she shook her head, pushing away from the door abruptly. Her eyes widened and she shoved her shaking hands in her pockets. That could have been her. Happy with Lucas for years, in love and content with her life only to have it all ripped away from her with a few stupid fights.

Understatement.

But she was tired of thinking about what she could have had. Though if that was true, then she had no idea what she was doing here. Sighing, she turned around and stared as he left the kitchen. A towel was in between his palms as he dried his hands and she nodded to herself with a small quirk of her mouth.

"Are you hungry?"

The question shocked her and she jumped slightly, stepping back. Jake raised his eyebrows and stilled the movement of his hands. Brooke inhaled shakily and forced a laugh, shaking her head back and forth. "No, thank you," she smiled. He nodded slowly and turned on his heel to go back into the kitchen. Following an impulse, she traced his steps through the living room and leaned against the counter when she reached it.

"_Do we have any chocolate?" she asked, crossing her arms and laying her head upon them. He chuckled lightly and she sighed reverently, dropping onto the nearest bar stool to make her position more comfortable. Brooke's eyes closed and Jake reached across the counter to brush her hair from her face._

"_No, but I'm sure there's a box of brownie mix in the cupboard," he replied. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, smiling sweetly. He sighed and nodded, grinning in response to her squeal as he crossed the tile to open the cupboard._

_With his back turned to her, she sat up slowly and took the opportunity to study him. Hard, sculpted muscles moved fluidly beneath his shirt and she swallowed thickly, propping her chin on her palm. He dug through the cupboard for a moment before emerging from the tiny space, triumphantly holding up a box of brownie mix._

"_Be glad for my baking phase," he winked and shut the cupboard, dropping the box on the counter before crouching down to retrieve a pan from under the sink. She smiled._

"Brooke." She started and looked at him, blinking rapidly. Sighing, Jake leaned against the counter opposite her and stared at her seriously. "Are you gonna zone out like that a lot? Because yelling your name to get your attention all the time is going to get old," he told her. His voice was light, mocking, and it made her smile in spite of herself.

"Maybe," she shrugged and looked down at the counter, tracing her initials into the granite. "Kinda been on overdrive lately," her voice lowered and she looked up at him slowly, begging him to comment. Jake nodded and clenched his jaw a little, looking up when the back door slid open.

"Daddy, there's a spider on my swing!" Jenny proclaimed as she ran into the house. Brooke arched an eyebrow and looked at him, smirking softly. He sighed and crossed the kitchen to kneel in front of his daughter.

"Baby, you've got two other swings that you can play on just as easily."

"But I like _that _swing," she protested, stomping her tiny little foot. "And I don't want to be Little Miss Muffet, so you need to make it go away!" Jake dropped his head with a grin, chuckling lightly. He looked back up and sighed, resting his hands on Jenny's shoulders.

"I'll be out in a minute, okay? Go play with something else for a minute," he promised. She stared at him, bottom lip stuck out, and he kissed her forehead gently. She rolled her eyes petulantly and sighed as she turned and walked back outside. He watched her go and then stood, turning to face his ex. Brooke watched him warily and he scratched the back of his head. "Can we talk?"

Tilting her head to the side, she nodded and ignored her hair when it fell in her face. "Go play the hero first," she murmured. "I'll be here when you get back," she promised. He nodded and gave her a faint smile before turning to follow his daughter. Brooke sighed heavily.

Sitting down on a bar stool, she twined her fingers together in her lap and watched him through the sliding glass door. He ambled across the backyard and leaned down to sweep Jenny up into his arms, swinging her over his shoulder as he headed for the swing set that was set up near the fence. Brooke inhaled sharply and hastily wiped at the sudden moisture in her eyes.

"_Mommy!" she screamed, sobs escaping her throat at lightening speed. It sounded like thunder to Brooke's ears and she frowned, unsure of how to help when Haley rushed past her to tend to her daughter. She hung back and watched as her friend sat down on the cement by her little girl, inspecting the scrape on her knee tenderly. A frown marred her face and she crossed her arms over her stomach._

"_Did she fall?" Nathan asked. Brooke turned to face him and nodded a little, awkward. He smiled and patted her shoulder. "Go in the house and grab the first aid kit from under the bathroom sink for me?" She nodded and smiled at him before brushing past him to do as she was asked. She could hear Lana's cries from the back of the house where the bathroom was located and she cringed as she headed back outside._

The doorbell rang and there was a knock on the door a second before the dinging stopped. Brooke turned sharply and stared at the door, wishing with all of her might that Jake would get a window installed in the damn thing. She never could tell who was there and it drove her up the wall. He didn't even have a peephole, for heaven's sake. With a sigh, she glanced out the back door again and then stood to answer the door herself.

When she reached it, another knock sounded against the wood and she was tempted to leave the person standing there just for being so impatient. People had _lives_; they couldn't just drop everything to answer the door right away. Rolling her eyes, she turned the doorknob and swung it open to greet Jake's latest visitor. Her eyes widened.

"Oh, God, don't tell me he's picked things up with you again," Nicki sneered.

Bristling, Brooke clenched her fist around the doorknob and tilted her head to the side mockingly. "Funny, I don't recall him mentioning a jealous girlfriend. Maybe he forgot about you?"

"We're not together, I'm just here to pick up my daughter for the evening. Do I dare ask what brings you to our part of the world?"

"Personal issues," Brooke bit. She took in the older woman's ensemble derisively and shook her head. "Sorry to see you haven't changed a bit. Should I be surprised at all?"

Nicki glared and opened her mouth to respond, but cut herself off abruptly. Brooke furrowed her brow in confusion and then felt a hand at the small of her back. A shiver flew down her spine and she fought to keep still as Jake greeted Jenny's mother.

"Do you want to come in?" he asked congenially. Nicki straightened up and smiled, shaking her head gently.

"No, I wouldn't want to intrude," she eyed Brooke again and her smile hardened. "Is her stuff all packed?" she asked. Jake answered in the affirmative and dropped his hand from Brooke's back, turning around to call for his daughter. Small footsteps could be heard as Jenny ran through the house, and she bounded out the door into Nicki's arms when she saw her mother. Brooke watched the interaction with interest, slightly shocked at the little girl's warm reception of the older woman.

"Mommy! There was a big spider on my swing earlier, you should've seen it! I made Daddy get rid of it so I could play and he told me—"

"Jenny," Jake cut her off gently. The girl squirmed and turned to look at him curiously. "I'm sure your mom wants to hear about all of your adventures, but you might want to save the exciting stuff for last," he winked and Jenny grinned, nodding her understanding. Smiling in turn, he grabbed a bag off the coat-rack by the door and Brooke frowned slightly at the image. It all seemed so … routine. And she didn't remember anything this civil ever taking place between this man and the woman standing on the porch. Nicki smirked and took the small pink backpack Jake was holding, swinging it over her shoulder.

"So I'll bring her back in a couple of days, and I'll call when we get back from New York," she said. Jake leaned against the doorframe and nodded his agreement. Nicki smiled and waved, not bothering to direct any sort of parting comment to Brooke as she walked down the driveway to her car.

Pulling back from the doorway, Jake grabbed Brooke's wrist and directed her away from the door. Her hand remained firmly clasped around the doorknob and he sighed shortly, placing his hand over hers to shut the door. She shivered again and cursed under her breath. There was more between them than there should have been, too many words left unspoken in the bitterness. With a quick breath, she slipped her hand out from between the metal and his, backing up slowly.

"It wouldn't kill you to be nice to her," he said softly. She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I don't remember you ever being _nice_ to her, either," she retorted harshly. Jake stared at her and Brooke raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest impatiently. Her foot tapped lightly against the wood floor.

"Things change. She's not the same person she was when we were in high school, Brooke." She tried to respond and he cut her off hastily, "And she's better than she was when you and I were together, too." There he went with that knowing-her-thoughts thing again. Gritting her teeth, she nodded and turned to walk into the living room.

Flopping down on the couch, she noticed that she was still wearing her shoes and toed them off, brushing them across the floor until they were lying underneath the coffee table. She turned around to face him and he leaned back against the door with a quick, audible release of his lungs.

"Wait, who is she going to New York with?" she asked curiously. A hint of a smile flickered across his face and she arched an eyebrow. He crossed the distance between them and walked around the couch, settling himself in the armchair that was facing her corner of the cushions.

Running a hand through his hair, he slouched down in the chair until he was comfortable. Brooke cleared her throat pointedly and he laughed softly at her impatience. "Alex, her fiancé," he replied. Her jaw dropped.

"She's getting married? Why would _anyone_ propose to her?"

"Some people would say the same thing about you, you know," he said softly. Shutting her mouth with an audible click, she leaned back against the end of the couch and let out a shuddering breath. Tears stung the corners of her eyes again and she did her best to shake off the sting of his words. She knew they were true; she just didn't want to think about the implications of _him_ saying them.

"_Stop putting words in my mouth, Brooke! I'm trying to talk to you about this before it gets out of hand!"_

"_Talking? What you're doing right now does not fall under anyone's definition of talking," she volleyed back. "I don't know where the fuck you get off telling me that I'm using him when you did the exact same thing!"_

_Peyton looked away and shook her head, barking out something that vaguely resembled a humorless laugh. Brooke tensed and the blonde looked back at her incredulously. "I'm not accusing you of any such thing," she said slowly. "I'm just warning you that if you want to be with him, you're going to have to stop with the games and really _be_ with him, Brooke."_

"_That's funny coming from _you_," she said softly. Peyton stared at her, hurt, and Brooke shook her head as she stormed out of the apartment. The door slammed behind her and she took a deep breath before heading for the elevator._

Jake steepled his fingers together and observed her over the tips of them. She stared back at him and resisted the overwhelming urge to look away. Run. Save herself from the tears that were bound to be released during this conversation. There was too much she wanted to say, too many confessions that needed to be made. By both of them. Brooke took a deep breath and dove right into the deep end.

"Were you in love with me?"

Silence greeted her, warm brown eyes suddenly cold, and she clenched her fists as she bent her legs at the knees. Resting them against the back of the couch, she tilted her body so that she was mostly propped up by the cushions on the back of the piece of furniture.

"Brooke, that's …"

"Loaded. Yeah, this entire situation is. Answer the question."

"Honestly?"

"No, lie to me," she snapped with a roll of her eyes. His hands dropped into his lap and he sat up slowly. Brooke cocked her head to the side as she appraised him. Spine tense, hands shaking no matter how much he tried to stop them, he looked like he was ready to rip her head off. Or fuck her senseless. She wasn't sure which and she wasn't sure if she wanted either event to take place.

"Yes," he choked out. Everything in her body seemed to turn to liquid with the single syllable and she felt like she couldn't breathe. Swallowing thickly around the lump in her throat – she was fairly certain it was her heart – she nodded slowly and smoothed sweaty palms across her bare thighs.

"Are you still?"

A pause, and then he sighed. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "Did you ever love me?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "And to answer the second question, I'm not sure."

"Lucas?"

"Is gone," she said firmly. Jake let out a scratchy laugh and shook his head sharply.

"Doesn't matter. Are you in love with him?"

"I was supposed to marry him yesterday," she retorted bitterly. "Does that not answer your question?" Digging her nails into her legs, she looked away from him and observed the tiny half-moon marks as they morphed from white to pink to red. If she kept digging she was sure she would draw blood.

"Not really. You know as well as I do that people get married to other people that they don't love all the time. Tell me you're not one of those people and I'll let the subject drop for now."

"Yes, I'm in love with Lucas. Was. Am," she over-corrected. With a loud huff, "I don't know! All I know is that I want to be here right now, and if that's not good enough then I'm _sorry_."

"I never said that wasn't good enough," he told her with a shake of his head. "And you hate it when people put words in your mouth, so don't go doing the same thing to me." He stood and ran a hand through his hair, staring down at her. "I don't do hypocrites."

Jake turned to leave the room and Brooke jumped off the couch, circling the coffee table quickly to cut him off before he reached the kitchen. He stopped just before he ran into her and she poked him hard in the chest. "Then don't walk away in the middle of the conversation and make yourself one," she fought to keep her voice from rising and he stepped back so that they were no longer touching. Her finger remained pointed at him and he raised his hands slowly, backing up until he was sitting on the coffee table. She stayed where she was and lowered her hand so that it was hanging uselessly at her side.

"Do you still have feelings for Peyton?"

"No," he answered, resolute. The response startled her, breath catching sharply in her throat. She coughed violently and his head snapped up, brown eyes colored with concern. Shaking her head, she waved him off and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

None of the cupboards had been rearranged, something that made her feel oddly comforted, and she pulled a plastic tumbler from one while she flipped on the faucet. Filling the glass with water, she pulled deeply from it to relieve the burning sensation in her throat.

"_You should be in bed," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. She sighed heavily and sniffled a little, taking another sip of her water as she stared out the small window above the sink. Jake dropped a kiss on her shoulder blade and she smiled a little._

_Turning her head so she could see him, "And you shouldn't be kissing me. Wouldn't want you getting sick," she frowned and set her glass on the counter. His arms loosened their hold on her waist and she took the opportunity to turn around in them, lacing her own around his neck._

"_I think I can handle a flu," he murmured. His eyes traced her face and a frowned marred his own. "You're so pale," he ran a hand up her back to press between her shoulder blades. Brooke breathed in deeply and buried her face against his neck, tightening her grip on him._

"_I'm fine," she swore._

"You sure?" he asked. She turned around sharply and nearly dropped the half-empty glass, completely forgetting about the still-running sink. Nodding emphatically, she turned around again and let the tumbler fall into the sink. The faucet was turned off a moment later and she frowned in confusion before she noticed the hand pressed against her shoulder.

Closing her eyes, she fought not to lean back against him. Old habits were going to have to go.


	5. Chapter 4: Vorpal Blade

Disclaimer: And yeah, still no.

A/N: The hiatus I took from this was completely unplanned. I went through a severe dry spell when school started and I'm really just now falling back into the fic world. Slowly, but surely. I do plan to finish this story as soon as my A.D.D. will allow, though my schedule keeps getting busier and I am going to stop making excuses right now.

This chapter is just a bit shorter than I expected it to be, but I wanted the next chapter to be all by itself without being started here. Reviews are greatly appreciated, as you all know, and the more I get the more inspiration I have to write and update.

Also, download _MakeDamnSure _by Taking Back Sunday.

--

She folded her arms and wound them around her knees, pulling them against her chest to keep her warm. The humidity was still strong despite the slight chill in the air, and she inhaled as slowly and as fully as she could. Deep breaths, her therapist told her, were calming and good for controlling anger. Tears. Whatever the problem was, she was constantly trying to breathe through it.

Right now, though, she felt like she was drowning and the more she inhaled the less capacity for air she had. It was frustrating, and the tears in her eyes were mostly derived from said irritation. Brooke refused to admit that she was crying over Lucas again. He wasn't worth it and he never had been.

"Just keep swimming," she murmured absently.

"I seem to remember you telling me that I shouldn't quote _Finding Nemo_," Jake said softly. She didn't bother to acknowledge his presence other than the small smile that appeared on her face, and he sat down next to her with a sigh. "Double standards are unfair, Brooke," he teased.

Remaining silent, she choked back her tears and sniffled quietly, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes absently. After blinking a few times, she pressed her tongue in between her teeth and dragged her nails across her shin.

"Forever," she offered, somewhat randomly. He looked at her curiously and she nodded slowly, tracing small circular designs in her sweats with her thumbnail. "That's what my vows said. That despite all of our break-ups and all of the fights, we were supposed to be forever. And that I knew it from the moment I first saw him, and you know what kills me?" Brooke looked at him, brow furrowed, and he stared at her quietly.

"The fact that I actually _believed_ that up until Karen told me he wasn't coming," she said incredulously. "Am I honestly that _stupid_?"

"You're not stupid," he said automatically. She rolled her eyes and looked away from him, swallowing painfully around the lump in her throat. Jake reached out and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, making it easier to see her face. "You're not, Brooke."

"Funny. That sounded less rehearsed before," she whispered. Brushing her pants off, she stood and turned around to go back into the house. He remained where he was, staring blankly at the backyard, and she shivered at the sound of the swing set creaking as she closed the door behind her.

_Jake rushed up before the door closed completely and she squealed, horrified and delighted, as he jerked the door open and smashed a balloon onto her back. Water exploded all over the place, coating her skin, hair, and the kitchen floor and she fought not to slip on the wet tile._

"_Look what you did now!" she laughed, out of breath, and wrapped her arms around his neck when he entered the kitchen. They both slipped on the tile and he snorted, stepping back out onto the porch and bringing her with him to keep her from falling. Brooke smiled against his neck and watched over his shoulder as Jenny carried a water balloon in each hand toward them._

_He gasped when his daughter threw them both at his legs, and both of them broke quite nicely against his skin. The scraps fell onto the porch and Brooke burst out laughing when Jake let go of her and started chasing Jenny around the backyard again._

She wrapped her arms around herself and crossed the kitchen, flopping down dejectedly on the couch. Exhausted, she stared blankly at the wall behind the entertainment center and ignored him when he came back inside. After a moment of tense silence in which she was afraid to move, afraid to breathe even, he crossed in front of her and crouched down so that he was at eye level with her.

"I thought Nicki and I were forever," he said quietly. "But then, when she left and I had to take care of Jenny…" he swallowed. "I grew up and figured things out. And you know what?"

"Forever's overrated," she whispered, nodding as she locked eyes with him. "I remember."

"So fuck him."

"That's Peyton's job now," she said dryly, voice at a normal volume. No need to sugarcoat the situation. As far as Brooke was concerned, she was here for a reason. If that reason was to argue it out with her almost-ex and mock herself for her mistakes, then so be it. If she wanted to make something more out of this experience, then she was still going to have to be realistic.

"Yeah, well," he sighed and stood up, gesturing vaguely toward the stairs. "The guest room is yours; you know where it is. If you need anything, let me know," he nodded once, awkwardly, and started toward the stairs. She blinked and furrowed her brow, sitting up abruptly and turning to watch him leave.

"Where are you going?"

"Shower," he said absent-mindedly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. Brooke swallowed and nodded to herself before looking around the empty room. The book shelf in the corner caught her attention and she smiled when she saw the familiar binding, sticking out slightly from all of the other volumes on the shelves.

--

"_The Vorpal Blade went snicker-snack," he quoted, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation. Glancing at him over the top of the pages, she shook her head and sighed heavily. _

"_Wrong novel, Scott," she said simply. Brooke returned her gaze to the pages and Nathan chuckled, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. He watched her for a moment and she raised the book so that her face was no longer visible. "Staring is creepy," she told him._

"_Don't you have a wife you can ogle?" Lucas asked, walking into the room. Brooke smiled and her boyfriend leaned down, kissing her temple lightly. "Leave my girlfriend alone."_

"_Yeah, man, I'm not even touching that one," Nathan laughed and Brooke scoffed, throwing her bookmark at him to no avail._

Brooke slid the book further up her knees, squinting slightly in the small amount of light available from the lamp she had turned on. She turned the page and smiled slightly at the text, skimming through it mostly from memory. A brighter light shone on the pages and she jumped, raising her eyes to find Jake staring at her in amusement.

"I didn't know you had this," she said softly, raising the book for his inspection. He nodded a little and she blushed lightly, folding down the corner of the page to mark her spot. "I thought I'd lost it," she continued.

"Jenny asks me to read it to her all the time," he told her. "I don't think she understands a single bit of it, but she likes the language."

"So did I," she nodded and dropped the book on the coffee table. He raised an eyebrow and she shrugged. "My mom used to read it to me when I was little. Once I could take care of myself I guess I just decided that wasn't her job anymore."

"Did it help?"

"Help with what?"

"Make you feel like she was still around all the time?" he wondered blatantly. Brooke stared at him, her gaze locked onto his, and Jake stared back with an intense expression that she hated. She lowered her eyes after a moment and slid off the couch, adjusting her ponytail idly.

"Is the guest room made up?" she asked quietly. He sighed, but nodded when she looked at him for confirmation to her question, and she nodded as she turned and headed up the stairs.

Crawling into bed, she winced when she heard his door slam and listened to the rapid rate of her heartbeat while she attempted to fall asleep.

--

The distinct scent of cinnamon crossed into her dreams and she wiggled her nose appreciatively, a small smile coloring her features as she snuggled further into the covers. After a moment she stretched and opened her eyes, blinking once or twice to adapt her pupils to the light in the guest room. Brooke sat up slowly and stretched again, pulling the black band off of her wrist and pulling her hair back into a messy bun.

She remained on the bed, looking around at how little the room had changed since she had been there last, and she bit her lip lightly when she heard Jake's unmistakable voice crawling up the stairs. It wound around her like an old blanket and she inhaled sharply.

"_Brooke, I think the paint fumes are getting to your head," he shook his head in amusement and she continued to giggle uncontrollably, sitting on the floor with splotches of light blue paint coloring her overalls. She stared at him through glazed-over eyes and he rolled his own, dropping down into a crouch in front of her._

_She stared at him for a moment and then smiled, rising to her knees and kissing him lightly. Jake smirked again and returned the pressure, groaning when she reached up and cupped his face in her paint-stained palm._

"_That's nice," he commented. "Really, thank you," he laughed and she shrugged, smiling cheekily. They kissed again and he fell backwards, dragging her with him in the process. Landing just shy of the paint tray that was sitting by the wall, he pushed his hands up underneath her tank top through the gaps in her overalls and she placed her hands on either side of his head in a makeshift frame._

He knocked on the door lightly and she cleared her throat. "Come in," she offered softly. The door opened slowly and he leaned against the frame, hand still firmly locked around the knob. Jake smirked softly and tilted his head as he appraised her.

"Sleep well?" Brooke nodded and Jake nodded in turn, clearly uncomfortable. "There's breakfast in the kitchen if you're hungry. I have to go pick up some stuff from the store, so you're free to hang here or explore or whatever."

"Not much to explore in Savannah, Jake," she smiled.

"Very true," he chuckled and locked eyes with her for a moment before dropping the gaze. Turning away from him, she dug her toes into the plush carpet and observed the action with more intent than was necessary. "I'll be back in a few hours," he said as he left. The door remained open and she listened as he wandered back down the stairs and out the front door, closing it securely behind him.

When she heard him pull out of the driveway, she stood and carefully padded across the room to the open door. She walked out into the hallway and looked to her right, observing the closed door of the bedroom with mild curiosity. After a moment she shook her head and wandered downstairs, only to hear the tell-tale beep of a new voicemail being left on her phone.

At the sound, she sped up her gait and stopped just short of her bag, sliding into a sitting position on the floor to listen to the message. "Brooke, hey…" Recognizing the voice instantly, she clenched her jaw and forced herself to listen to the rest. "I'm probably the last person you want to hear from right now, but I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. And I want you to know that I didn't—I wasn't behind this, so please don't hold it against me. We've hated each other long enough without this adding to the list of reasons, okay? Call me."

_Beep_.

The operator instructed her on how to delete the message, and before she could even say what button was necessary to do so, Brooke cancelled the connection and thought about her ex-best friend's request. Instead of calling her, she deleted Peyton's number from her phone all together and turned the damn piece of plastic off.

--

Water cascaded down her back in rivulets, hot and stinging in the steamy atmosphere of the bathroom. Tilting her head back, she ran her hands through her hair repeatedly and scraped invisible layers of dirt from her scalp with manicured fingernails. Brooke slid her hands down her neck and across her shoulders, picking up her loofa from the side of the tub and scrubbing her skin.

She closed her eyes and rinsed the remaining soap from her body before turning off the water flow, stepping out and wrapping a towel around her waist. She opened the door and squealed, frightened, at the sight of Jake leaving his bedroom. He raised an eyebrow and glanced back into the room, then at her, and chuckled.

"Scare you?"

Running a hand through her wet hair, she wrapped the other around the top of her towel to secure it and laughed shakily. "Didn't realize you were home," she explained breathily. Her heart was pounding heavily, too heavily for a simple scare, and she swallowed thickly when she noticed his eyes straying from her face down to the rest of her body. She knew her skin was flushed, damp, and that the towel she'd grabbed off the rack didn't do much to hide any of that flesh.

"Next time I'll sound an alarm," he offered. Brooke rolled her eyes and flicked off the light in the bathroom, turning to go down the hallway to the guest room. His eyes burned into her back as she went and she pulled her hair over her shoulder, running her fingers through it idly. Just before she reached the door of the bedroom she turned around, water droplets flying everywhere from the force.

"Maybe," she said. He stared at her and she inhaled deeply, letting the air out slowly. "You asked me if I'm still in love with you. And lust isn't the same thing, but it does contribute. So maybe I am," she explained. Jake's jaw clenched at her words and Brooke nodded slowly. "Do you still eat early dinners?"

He nodded slowly. "Five or six, usually."

Turning around to see the blaring red letters on the alarm clock in her room, she nodded and smiled as she looked back at him. "It's five-fifteen," she offered. "Give me a few minutes to get dressed and we'll go out?"

She didn't give him the opportunity to respond as she walked into her room. Beginning to loosen her grip on her towel, she used her other hand to wrap around the door knob and shut it. The door was hardly closed when his hand closed around the edge, stopping it, and she looked at him with wide eyes. "This isn't going to be a replacement thing," he said seriously. "And I think you're moving on way too fast from a broken wedding with a guy you thought was your soul mate."

"Well, you've always known I'm not a patient person," she said quietly. He stared at her and she smiled brilliantly before letting the expression drop into a somber one. "And we've always been each other's replacements, Jake."

He pulled back at the words and she shut the door with a click, letting her towel drop away from her body completely.


	6. Chapter 5: Wasting Her Time

-1Disclaimer: -yawns-

A/N: Download _Prelude 12/21_ by AFI. (And please don't yell at me for being absent for over a year. I truly didn't mean to fall so far out of touch with the world of fiction, and especially with this story.)

--

He pressed his hand into the small of her back and she swallowed, resisting the urge to arch away from him. The skin underneath the gossamer material of her dress prickled sharply and she tightened her grip on her purse as the waiter led them to their table. Jake didn't lose contact with her until she slid into her chair, smiling kindly at the man in the suit that offered her a menu.

She instantly hid behind it and sighed with relief when the man sitting across from her didn't try to start a conversation as soon as the waiter was gone. A stiff silence lingered between them, the only available noise being that of the patrons in the background and all around them, and Brooke sighed with a more frustrated tone as she set her menu down.

Tapping her fingers in a steady staccato rhythm, she stared at him as he gazed intently at his options for dinner that night. He knew the menu; she knew he did. They had practically lived here every night while she was staying with him.

The simple fact that the maitre d didn't know their names when they walked into the restaurant threw her off. She didn't want to think about how long she had been gone, yet everywhere she looked there was something else to remind her of how she had abandoned him for Lucas.

"They got rid of your chicken," he said suddenly. Her eyes narrowed and she fingered the menu, but kept her gaze locked on him. Jake slowly raised his eyes to meet hers and he smirked softly, pointing at the flimsy plastic menu. "Are we going to have to leave now?"

"You don't want to be here in the first place," she filtered her hair through her fingertips and watched him intently, carefully scraping her nails across each strand as they fell against her neck. He swallowed and her eyes momentarily fell to his throat.

"Do we have to do this here?" he asked quietly, leaning into the table. She could hear him just fine; she wondered if his purpose was to make the question clearer in the din or if he was simply trying to find an excuse for them to look more like a couple.

And not one that hated each other.

Clearly he overestimated their ability to play the part of happy people.

Placing her palms flat on the table, Brooke dropped her head so that their eyes were level and smiled slowly as she tilted toward him. His eyes slid to her mouth and then he blinked and they were back on hers, she noted, and she licked her bottom lip just for good measure. "If you refuse to let me move on, then I'm going to take the opportunity to say what hasn't been stated, Jake."

"Come on, Brooke."

"Lucas is gone," she said firmly. He flinched, and surprisingly the action wasn't reflected by her heart. Sitting back in her chair, she folded her arms on the table in front of her and cocked her head to the side slightly. "So stop acting like he's the monkey in the room."

"Elephant."

"You sound like Peyton," she rolled her eyes, but smiled slightly as she did so, and he didn't retaliate like she thought he would. Instead he simply mimicked her and sat back in his chair, leaving his eyes on hers even as the waiter returned.

It wasn't until they both had drinks in front of them that she bothered to continue the conversation, if it could even be called that. She had a feeling they would be arguing before they left the restaurant, and if they ended up taking a walk like they usually did after dinner out, then that argument was only going to get more intense. Idly, she hoped they went for a walk.

Sitting in the closed confines of his car while they seethed at each other didn't seem like such a fun experience.

"I feel like maybe I missed something," she commented lightly, taking a sip of her wine. Jake raised his eyebrows questioningly and Brooke shrugged slightly, swirling her glass nonchalantly. "It just seems like I should have chosen a different path."

He snorted. "You think?"

"Don't be an asshole," she reprimanded. "At least I'm here now."

There was a long pause as he took a drink of his water and straightened the wrinkles in the table cloth. She stared at him seriously, appraising his every move, and eventually he locked eyes with her and forced her heart to skip a beat. "What do you want me to say, Brooke?"

"You don't have to say anything," she said quietly, shaking her head back and forth. "I just want you to look at me without expecting me to bolt at any given moment."

"How do you expect me to do that, exactly?" he asked. "Considering how many people have left you, I guess I shouldn't be surprised at how good you are at taking off, but really. After all the late night talks and supposed 'family moments,' I thought you were different."

"Monkey see, monkey do," she murmured coldly.

He clenched his jaw tightly. "Even Jenny knows better than to use that in an argument, and she's six years old. You're almost twenty-four, Brooke."

"Almost twenty-four and still single," she said, forcing a bright smile. "What do you suppose that says about my maturity level?"

"That has nothing to do with it. Stop trying to pin your problems on other people."

"I believe you were the one who said, and I quote, 'Lucas is an idiot,' when I tried to explain how I ended up alone at the altar. Doesn't that make it not my fault?" she bit, resisting the urge to raise her voice. The waiter approached their table and she shot him a harsh look that caused him to turn on his heel with a nod, silently communicating that he would return at a better time.

"Touché," he murmured, leaning forward. Brooke leaned toward him in response, and soon there was a scant six inches between them. If the table hadn't been there, she was certain they would have been touching. The thought made her shiver.

"But answer me this," he continued, "How is it that one of the most beautiful women on the east coast, with suitors knocking on her door day and night, can't manage to get her shit together long enough to commit to someone that actually wants her?"

"What are you saying? That the two years I spent with you wasn't a commitment?" She tilted her head to the side curiously, arching one perfect eyebrow.

Jake sat back slightly and looked around the restaurant, laughing hollowly as he clenched his fists on top of the table. Brooke couldn't help but be drawn to the movement of his fingers.

"_There's a bruise on my hip from last night," she murmured silkily, wrapping her arms around his waist. Jake furrowed his brow and looked down at her, resting his hands softly on her arms so that she was unable to press against him._

"_I thought you said I wasn't hurting you," he said seriously, looking far too concerned for her taste. Brooke smiled slightly and leaned up to kiss him, nibbling lightly at his bottom lip before pulling away._

"_You weren't," she promised. "Plus, it's kind of sexy to have marks from your boyfriend's incredibly strong hands on your body after a twelve-hour session in bed."_

_He flushed slightly and her eyes lit up as she laughed, teasing him even as he caressed her hip through her clothing. The touch was far more loving than it had been just a few hours earlier._

"We've already been over this. I was a replacement, remember?" he taunted. "That makes the word commitment rather void in terms of our relationship."

Brooke took another sip of her wine and sighed heavily as she set the glass back on the table. "I seem to recall you using the same term to describe my involvement in your life, Jagielski. That makes your anger rather void in terms of being labeled as such."

"Stop twisting my words around," he snapped. A woman at the table adjacent to theirs looked up from her meal, eyes wide. Brooke smiled brightly at her and wiggled her fingers in a condescending wave. The eavesdropper returned her gaze to her fork and Brooke rolled her eyes as she looked back at her ex.

"Why shouldn't I? Really, it's all just subtext, anyway, so it shouldn't matter what the words are," she said seriously.

"Oh," he murmured, nodding his understanding. "I get it."

Silence reigned over the table for a long moment as they stared at each other, daring one another to pick up the thread of conversation again. Brooke took a deep breath and smoothed the front of her dress, hands shaking subtly from the tension.

The waiter came and went again before she was irritated enough to speak. "Fine. What do you get?"

"Why you're here," Jake smiled crookedly. "It makes perfect sense now."

"Do tell," she replied huskily, leaning forward in false anticipation. He leaned into her as well, returning them to their earlier closeness, and she was startled at the intensity in his gaze as it raked across her face.

"You don't want Lucas anymore." His voice was so quiet that he was nearly whispering. Brooke furrowed her brow slightly and he held up a finger to halt her questions. "But you want to know if anyone still wants _you_."

The truth in the words hit her like a barrel full of bricks.

When the waiter arrived with their food, she welcomed the distraction with an eagerness that directly contradicted her sudden loss of appetite.

--

_Jenny set another doll on the table and Peyton smiled encouragingly, asking the little girl various questions about the Barbie's identity. Brooke pushed away from the doorframe and turned around, walking into the kitchen with purpose._

"_Did she tell you what she's doing here?" she asked, resting back against the refrigerator. Jake looked up from the glass of lemonade he had just finished pouring and shook his head as he screwed the cap back on the Minute Maid._

"_No," he replied. "Well, she gave me some bit about Haley telling her I was moving out of the apartment, but Haley knows that isn't happening for another couple of months."_

"_And she decided to drive down to Florida to… what? Say goodbye to an apartment she never had anything to do with?"_

"_Stop it," he said seriously._

"_What? Jake, don't you think it's a little weird?"_

_He crossed the small space to her and pulled on the handle of the fridge until she moved away long enough for him to put the lemonade back. Once the door was shut, she was leaning against it again, and he sighed as he rested his hands on either side of her body, closing her in._

"_Will you please try and be nice? I know the two of you aren't on the best of terms, but…"_

"_That's an understatement," she said quietly. He leaned in and kissed her softly and she returned the pressure, desperate for physical reassurance. "I'll try," she breathed once they parted._

"_Thank you," he murmured._

"_Jake?"_

"_What?"_

"_She knows you're still in love with her."_

The night air was warm and surprisingly dry, clinging to her skin in a way that wasn't as uncomfortable as it had been the night before. Brooke wrapped her arms around her self and carefully placed one foot in front of the other, pretending she was on a curb trying to keep her balance like she used to teach Jenny to do before she took off.

"So what's the verdict?" she asked, raising her voice so that it would carry across the distance between them. Jake didn't look away from the fountain he was staring at, but he tilted his head up slightly and swallowed. She was saddened by the fact that she still noticed such small gestures because she knew him so well, but at the same time she was rather proud of her good memory.

"The verdict on what?" he called in return, turning toward her as she continued across the cobblestones toward him. The path was familiar, and she recognized some of the cracks as ones that Jenny had inspected on their various trips to the park in the months spent preparing Jake's house to be a home. Tonight, circumstances were different.

But somehow, everything was still the same.

"Am I wasting my time?" She lowered her voice as she came closer to him, and he closed his eyes tightly as she finally closed the distance completely. There was little more than a foot between them now, and she turned and sat daintily on the edge of the fountain so that she could look up at him.

Somehow, it made her feel calmer to be below him while they had this particular conversation.

"Ah," he breathed, opening his eyes and gazing at some point over her head. "I don't know if it's that simple."

"Sure it is," she crossed her legs and rested her head on her palm. "It isn't rocket science; either yes, I'm not going to find what I'm looking for here; or no, I should stay and see what unfolds."

Jake sighed heavily and shoved his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket, making him look familiarly irresistible in the dim light from the fountain and the lamps surrounding them. He looked down at her and she struggled to catch her breath as he smirked.

With another sigh, he sat down next to her — leaving a considerable amount of room between their bodies — and stared straight ahead of him as the smirk faded into a mild frown. Brooke didn't break her gaze away from him, choosing instead to focus her attention solely on the little gestures to gauge what he might say next.

Despite her concentration, or maybe because of it, he still managed to catch her by surprise.

"I'm not going to make this decision for you," he told her earnestly, turning to look at her finally. She was afraid to move, afraid to break the moment, so she sat there silently and let his words wash over her like the waves of the ocean that she loved and hated simultaneously. "If you think there's something for you here, then you should stay. But if you're only here for sympathy sex, then you should leave."

"I thought I told you I wasn't here for sex," she whispered, the words breaking roughly on the lump in her throat.

"Okay." He nodded and looked down at his lap. "Then I guess the answer to your question is no."

She inhaled sharply. "No?"

"No," he shook his head before locking eyes with her once more. The fire in his hazel orbs both frightened and aroused her, causing her skin to tingle at the implications behind the blaze. "You aren't wasting your time by being here."

She almost wished his answer had been yes.

Maybe then she would have been able to breathe.


	7. Chapter 6: Miss Your Warmth

-1Disclaimer: I still don't own them.

--

Nicki was more observant than she let on. It was unsettling to a degree that Brooke didn't truly want to contemplate, but when she offered to pick Jenny up from her mom's, she had a feeling she would be participating in a conversation much like the one she was suffering through now. Had she listened to her instincts, she could have avoided a significantly awkward silence.

Of course, it was becoming increasingly apparent that Brooke and her instincts were perpetually at war with each other. She had no idea how to even begin constructing a treaty to please both sides of the conflict.

"Jake just seems a little distant, lately," Nicki offered. Brooke bit the inside of her bottom lip and crouched down so that she was eye-level with Jenny.

Offering the little girl a bright smile, Brooke tucked a wayward curl behind Jenny's ear. "Can you go wait in the car for a minute, sweetie? I just need to talk to your mom for a second."

"I guess so," Jenny said, sighing heavily. Brooke resisted the urge to laugh, making sure that Jenny made it into her car before standing to face Nicki again. The older woman had one perfect eyebrow arched, her arms folded across her chest as she leaned against the doorway.

"You're surprisingly good with her," Nicki said.

"You're not-so-surprisingly condescending today," Brooke returned. "What exactly are you digging for, Nicki?"

"Nothing! I'm just intrigued by the fact that neither of you is walking around looking deliriously happy like you used to, and you've been here for three weeks," Nicki replied. The smirk on her face reminded Brooke of the Cheshire Cat, but it was also so reminiscent of Dan, she felt sick to her stomach.

Somehow, both comparisons seemed to fit perfectly.

"People change," Brooke said pointedly.

"Apparently," Nicki nodded, her grin growing slowly. "You did get down here awfully soon after your little wedding scam, though. Maybe people don't change all that much."

"Are you implying that I'm fast?"

"Are you denying that you are?"

"No," Brooke shook her head. "Just pointing out that the pot is calling the kettle black again." She smiled impishly and turned on her heel, ignoring Jake's voice in the back of her mind reminding her to be nice to the mother of his child. Once she knew where she stood with the man in question, maybe she could focus on finding a way to be civil with the Wicked Witch. Until then, she felt no need to take his advice and rise above the pettiness to make amends.

She never claimed to be the mature one, after all.

--

"Daddy! Look at my nails, aren't they pretty?" Jenny called, running into Jake's legs and wrapping her arms firmly around his knees. He laughed and ruffled her hair, locking eyes with Brooke as she shut the door behind her. She offered him a small smile and he returned it before reaching down to pick up his daughter.

"Daddy, look!" Jenny demanded, waving her small hand impatiently in his face. Jake blinked a few times and then grabbed her wrist to still her wiggling fingers.

"Yes, they're very pretty," he agreed. "Did Mommy paint them for you?"

"Uh-huh. She also bought me a new fairytale book and promised she would let me read it next time I visit her. It has all the Princesses, and the Frog Prince, and–"

"Whoa. Slow down," Jake told her with a laugh. Jenny huffed out a breath and then wriggled until her dad put her down, instantly running upstairs to her room. Brooke assumed she was looking for a stuffed animal that could keep up with her fast-paced chatter, as Jenny had confided in her two years ago that her teddy bear was a far better listener than any of the adults in her life.

She smiled as she watched the little girl disappear around the corner and dropped her purse on the kitchen counter. "She also learned how to spell 'recliner' while she was playing Scrabble, and Alex made her baked macaroni and cheese for dinner last night, which is now her favorite dish."

"Busy weekend," Jake murmured. Brooke laughed.

"How sad is it that a six year-old's life is more interesting than mine and I'm four times her age?"

"That's pretty pathetic," he agreed. She rolled her eyes playfully and he laughed, rubbing her shoulder gently as he passed her to get behind the counter. Inhaling sharply at the contact, she closed her eyes for a moment and bit down on the inside of her cheek.

It had been over two weeks since that night in the park, and they had yet to discuss where they stood as a couple. She knew they weren't together; she also knew they weren't exactly friends. The limbo was confusing and she was growing tired of avoiding the issue as though it were the plague.

"Are you in the mood for take-out? I don't really feel like cooking," he said, abruptly pulling her from her thoughts. Brooke sighed and sat down on a bar stool, propping her chin on her palm.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked. Jake stopped digging through the fridge and instead turned to face her, idly reaching for the menu drawer.

"I could go for Italian," he revealed. "There's this great place that just opened up a couple blocks over, and they have fantastic tortellini," he continued, looking up at her as he set the take-home menu on the counter. She reached for it and deliberately let her fingers linger too long against his, hoping for a reaction.

The most she got was a furrowed brow. "That's your favorite, right? Tortellini?"

She took a deep breath and locked eyes with him. "I'm surprised you remember."

He shrugged and turned away for a glass of water. "I remember more than you'd think," he mumbled. Brooke had the distinct feeling she wasn't supposed to hear the words, but they sent a chill down her spine regardless.

"_I missed you," he murmured, kissing her temple softly. Brooke smiled against his chin and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Where were you?"_

_Her heart leapt into her throat and she groaned softly as he pulled her closer, hoping the arousal in the sound disguised the nervous clearing of her throat. "Saying goodbye to Peyton," she whispered. Jake nodded against her shoulder and pressed a kiss against the exposed skin of her collarbone._

"_I had to make sure she wasn't coming back," she added as an after-thought, silently mouthing the words against his neck._

"They have homemade garlic bread!" she exclaimed, pointing at the bulletin on the top of the paper. Jake smiled around the rim of his glass and leaned forward. "Is it _really_ homemade, or is it that fake homemade stuff that they sell at chain restaurants?"

"It's _really_ homemade," he told her. "This Italian widower owns the place, and he uses all organic ingredients. It's sort of become a local favorite in the past year or so."

"Wow," she murmured. "How long ago did his wife pass?"

"Right around the time you went back to Tree Hill," Jake admitted. There was no hatred in his voice, but Brooke still felt her muscles tense at the mention of their break-up. When she looked at him again, he didn't appear to have noticed the impact of his words.

Before she could respond, a loud pounding of footsteps on the stairs alerted both of them to Jenny's return. A moment later, the little girl appeared in the kitchen clutching her finger and looking thoroughly depressed.

"What's wrong, baby?" Jake asked. He was ignored as Jenny approached Brooke and climbed up on the stool next to hers. Brooke furrowed her brow in concern.

"My nail polish chipped," Jenny whispered, sniffling sadly. Brooke felt her heart melt at the expression on her face, and she carefully reached out and took the proffered finger. "Can you fix it, Brooke?"

"I think I have this exact shade of pink with me," Brooke said solemnly, inspecting Jenny's index finger carefully. Reaching up to cup the little girl's cheek, she smiled encouragingly and brushed away a stray tear. "If you want to run upstairs and grab the black bag on the floor beside my bed, I'll fix it for you before dinner, okay?"

"Okay!" Jenny jumped off the stool and took off upstairs again.

_Brooke laughed and tickled Lana's stomach again, coaxing another round of shrieking from the little girl. She gasped and writhed under Brooke's hands, laughing too hard to do anything but kick her legs in defense._

"_The Tickle Monster strikes again," Nathan drawled from the doorway. Brooke looked up at her friend and smiled warmly, finally giving up her attack and pulling her pseudo-niece into a tight hug._

"_She was asking for it," she said seriously, settling Lana on her lap. He grinned and sauntered over to the two of them, swooping down to pick up his daughter before tossing her into the air._

"_I bet she was," he said teasingly. Brooke watched him cuddle his daughter for a long moment before he sent her off to clean up her toys. "Thanks for keeping her occupied."_

"_My pleasure," she said softly._

Jake grabbed the menu from her and she jumped when she realized that he was behind her instead of on the opposite side on the counter, as he had been when Jenny had appeared. Brooke looked up at him curiously and he shrugged, offering her a smile.

"Tortellini and garlic bread? Anything else?"

"Maybe I want something different this time," she teased. "Did you ever think of that?"

He hesitated for a second and then reached out to push her hair back from her face, his fingers lingering just a moment too long against her neck. She felt her cheeks heat up before the warmth gathered between her thighs and she bit back a gasp.

"I'm always thinking of that," he admitted.

It was perfectly clear to her that they were no longer talking about her dinner choices.

--

Jenny curled into the mattress when Jake laid her down. Brooke was surprised when she didn't wake from all the jostling of being carried up the stairs to bed, but then she remembered that it had been two years since she was involved in Jenny Jagielski's life, so she shouldn't have been surprised that she missed such a subtle development.

Jake closed the door to his daughter's room and nodded toward his own, questioning. She hesitated for too long before shaking her head, and the way his eyes darkened told her that he had noticed. Brooke slowly turned and headed back down the stairs.

His footsteps were light behind her, but she could still hear the bare slap of his skin against the hard wood floors, and when she stepped outside and idly spun to face him from the grass, she was startled by the image of him standing on the porch. He was framed in the light of the kitchen, hands in his pockets, and her breath hitched violently in her throat.

"Jake–"

"Stop," he said softly. She pushed her hands into her back pockets uncomfortably. "I'm tired of not talking about it," he continued, his voice at a low register that reminded her of winter.

"I didn't mean to show up and disrupt your life," she said.

"Yes, you did," he argued lightly, smirking softly. Jake carefully walked down the stairs toward her and stopped when they were about a foot apart.

"No," she disagreed. "I needed to set myself straight. I didn't want to push you off the cliff again."

"Who says you pushed me off to begin with?" he asked, taking another step forward. Brooke resisted the urge to move back and stood perfectly still, all too aware of the smell of his soap and the warmth of his body.

"I make you reckless," she whispered. Jake snorted.

"Okay." He nodded. "If you say so."

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, running her hands through her hair in frustration. "Don't act like you were in control when we were together, Jake, because you weren't. I'm not stupid. I know when you're lying."

"Do you?"

The tone of his voice threw her off. He sounded so smug, and yet there was something else hidden in the question that she couldn't pick up on. Without turning around, she folded her arms across her chest and took a deep breath. "Yes," she said.

Her own tone screamed of confidence, but when he rested his hands on her shoulders she jumped. "That works both ways with us, Brooke," he whispered, breath ghosting across her flesh and wracking her spine with chills.

She spun around and set her jaw angrily. "Why are we even bothering? Just tell me how you feel for once, Jake!"

Jenny's favorite swing creaked behind her. He let go of her shoulders and sighed.

"I miss your warmth."

Tears flew unbidden to her eyes and she nodded once, breathing heavily. "I miss yours, too."


End file.
